


Magma

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24987883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis still has a trick up his sleeve.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 66





	Magma

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Ignis has been stuck on the coffee table for a solid ten minutes, and it’s mostly his fault—he should never have moved it so far away from the couch. In his defense, Noctis never uses coasters. Ignis brought them hot chocolate back when they were still just playing regular video games, and he knew that if the sleek glass designer coffee table was within reach, Noctis would stain it to high heaven. So they moved it back. Noctis put his cup on the rug instead and spilled it anyway. They still have to clean that up. But every time Ignis tries to get down off the coffee table, Noctis yells at him. 

“This is incredibly impractical,” he mumbles.

And Noctis, stuck halfway to the couch on a discarded hoodie, counters, “Not as impractical as me having to find a new friend because you _died_.”

Ignis rolls his eyes. He wouldn’t die climbing off the table. He _might_ die if he tries to make a jump for the couch. He only made it to the coffee table in the first place because Noctis’ oversized hoodie happened to be lying between. But Ignis made the mistake of throwing that hoodie to Noctis when he asked, and Noctis used it to escape the bookshelf he’d been precariously perched on, and now they’re _both_ stuck in the middle of nowhere. 

“We could stop playing,” Ignis suggests. The only thing that’s really binding them to their tiny islands is their own imaginations. But Noctis frantically shakes his head.

“No way! That would be admitting defeat!”

“We’ve already survived for nearly a full hour in a room apparently full of renegade lava—how much more of a victory do you need?”

Noctis sighs like Ignis is the ridiculous one. “That’s not how you play, Iggy, and you know it. The idea is to make it around the whole room. We have to reach the door, or we lose!”

“Then we lose.”

“You know, if you weren’t picking up after me all the time, we’d have more stuff to work with. Why’d you pick up all my game cases anyway?”

If looks could kill, Lucis would need a new heir. The worst part is that Ignis doesn’t _want_ to pick up after Noctis at all—he just can’t stand spending so much time in a pigsty, and Noctis still hasn’t gotten the memo that his discarded things won’t pick up themselves. Ignis is probably making it worse by enabling him, but in Ignis’ defense, he didn’t know the Citadel would be fictitiously flooded with lava today. 

Noctis mumbles under his breath, “We just need to be smarter... there’s gotta be someth—” He cuts himself off mid-word, eyes going wide. Ignis curiously waits out the brain wave. Straightening up, Noctis bellows at the top of his lungs, “ _Gladio!_ ”

Ignis glances towards the door. There’s shuffling on the other side. Noctis shrieks the name several more times, and then the door swings open, and the teenager stationed outside Noctis’ quarters slams the door open, eyeing Noctis in obvious irritation. He’s only a year older than Ignis, but it’s easy to figure out why he isn’t inside playing with them, aside from being given token duties like guarding Noctis in his own quarters.

Noctis reaches out his arms and orders like a true spoiled prince, “C’mere!”

Gladiolus scrunches up his nose but obeys. “What do you—” As soon as he reaches Noctis, he’s unceremoniously spun around, and Noctis starts climbing up onto his broad shoulders. Noctis is just a _little_ too old for that to be acceptable. “Hey, what’re you—!”

Clinging to Gladiolus’ back like a particularly entitled monkey, Noctis jabs his finger towards the door and barks, “Take me over there, peasant!”

Gladiolus looks horribly offended. Ignis is completely certain that’s why Noctis threw in the ‘pleasant.’ Gladiolus throws a semi-mortified, semi-furious look at Ignis, but Ignis just shrugs helplessly. He’s well aware of how much of a brat Noctis can be. 

But he is their beloved prince, and someday, Gladiolus will likely become as fond of him as Ignis is. So, despite everything, Gladiolus mutters, “I don’t get paid enough,” and goes where he’s told.


End file.
